


Leavened

by Menya_Savut



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: ...contemporary dance?, Bittersweet, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Dreams, Gen, Past Character Death, slightly saccharine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 02:57:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7873510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Menya_Savut/pseuds/Menya_Savut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Percy dreamed of Luke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Percy dreamed of Luke.

They were in a tree behind the school where Percy went to third grade; he remembered that he eventually got kicked out because someone fell out of the tree while he was in it, and everyone blamed him. Now that he thought about it, maybe it had been Zeus, being petty as usual…

Luke stood in full Greek armor on a branch just below where Percy sat. He leaned against the trunk and smiled thinly up at Percy. Under the mottled shadows, Percy saw the scar on Luke’s face stretch; it was red and angry, as if Luke had just recently been cut.

“Are you really here?” Percy asked. “Or is this just a dream?”

“Just a dream,” Luke said soothingly. “I’ve left Hades for rebirth, you know.”

Percy blinked. “How can you know all of this if you’re just a dream?”

“Because even now, in death, I’m still a slave to the gods,” Luke said. But his tone was devoid of bitterness, as light as the wind that ruffled the leaves around them.

He stretched his hands behind his head, and Percy saw the yawning gash in his armpit, just as raw as he’d first seen it, right before Luke died. He noticed something else.

“Your scabbard. It’s empty.”

“There are no weapons in Hell.” Luke closed his eyes.

“Hell? Not Hades?”

“I’m a memory,” Luke said again. “Even now, even after you’ve seen it, even after you’ve been there, you still say Hell. Why does it matter anyway? It’s all the same thing, whether you’re alive or dead, real or imaginary…”

Luke reached a hand to Percy. He grasped it, but Luke only rested their hands on Percy’s knee. Luke’s hand was terribly soft.

“I am proud, Percy,” Luke said. “Proud and ashamed. And still very angry. Mostly I am grateful for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“What is your fondest memory of me?”

“What?”

“What is your fondest memory of me?”

Percy stared at Luke blankly, but Luke only tapped their hands on Percy’s knee.

“My fondest memory…you taught me how to stitch a wound,” Percy said. “On myself. I really wanted to cry, you know. I nearly did, when you helped me pull the arrowhead out. I dunno, now that I think about it, it was an awful memory…but I just felt-”

“Secure? Like someone had control of things?”

Percy blinked rapidly. “Yeah.”

“Are you going to cry now, _paidi_?” Luke asked softly.

Percy breathed in. “I just…I still miss you…”

Luke leaned his head on Percy’s branch. Percy closed his eyes. He could feel the pulses in Luke’s fingers, as if he were still alive, but erratic, as if he were close to death.

“I am grateful, Percy, because I know you’ll be a better mentor than I was to you. No one ever says it enough, but you are wise. They say you’re rash, that you act before you think. For me, it was a curse, but for you, it’s the most powerful gift. Very few are lucky enough to say they can trust their instincts. Very few can partner their mind with their heart, without having to fight those dark yearnings. There is a powerful goodness in you, and it may be your downfall. But fortunate are you that your downfall is from goodness.”

Percy’s eyes burned, not with tears but with the image of Luke, sunken eyes, battered face, peaceful expression. He felt entranced; he couldn’t look away...

“I carry the scabbard, despite not holding a sword, because it is empty. There was something there, and now there is not. That is my wisdom. How do you feel, Percy?”

“ _Like I’m more awake than I ever will be,_ ” Percy said in Greek.

“ _Do not worry, the sensation will pass. Thank you.”_

_“Thank you as well.”_

The tree disappeared from underneath them; Percy felt a sinking sensation, but it didn’t alarm him. Luke let his hand go and walked away through the dappled shadows. Percy closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S BEEN SO long since I've posted that it took me a good minute to find the 'post new' button...but igotit,obviously  
> PJATO and HOO have really given me a lot of angst, and I told myself that I'd write a decent fanfiction before Trials of Apollo, but obviously that didn't happen and I did this instead, and it's...dumb  
> It's late at night, I'm sleep-deprived, that kind of rhymes, I'm losing time...oh my gosh - the point is, wow, I did a thing. Ta-da.


	2. Chapter 2

Percy dreamed of Luke.

“I think I understand why you hated the gods,” Percy said. He leaned away from the noonday sun and wiped the dust off his hands. In front of him, Luke's unblemished skin glistened with sweat, made nearly white by the brightness of the sun.

“Yeah?”

Luke moved toward Percy, torso bent forward, left palm up. Percy matched him with his right hand and rotated his body away, so that he was facing the walls of the amphitheater. He dropped and curved beneath Luke’s elbow. Luke twisted above him, and when Percy looked up, Luke’s body eclipsed the sun.

“I think I do too,” Percy said.

“You hate the gods?”

“Yeah.”

Percy knelt, and Luke pivoted so that his back faced Percy. Luke’s hand dropped, but in a moment his other hand reached blindly toward Percy’s shoulder.

“It’s different, though,” Luke said. He stepped back, forcing Percy to stand. Luke’s hand slipped down to Percy’s elbow. “You hate them for someone else.”

“Nico.” Percy’s free hand landed on Luke’s shoulder, and now Luke dropped to his knees.

“You’re angry for him,” Luke said. “You know so little of how awful it was, and so you’re angry for him.”

Luke pulled his hands away and rested them on his knees. Percy stood behind him. A rogue breeze disturbed the dusty ground.

“He’s nineteen now, you know,” Percy said. “He’s the age you were when I first met you.”

Luke exhaled softly. “And you’re twenty-three, the age I was when I died.”

“Luke.”

“I’m just a memory, _agoraki._ Don’t fret.”

Baby boy. Nico...

“Thank you for loving him,” Luke said. “Nico. This sounds cowardly, but your loving him gives me the ability to love you now, when I’m not even me, when I’m not even real. It’s so weak...”

Percy sat and leaned against Luke sideways. The sun seared into his eyes again.

“You shouldn’t think of me as good,” Luke said. “But I’m here, and I’m all you. And you won’t stop.”

“That’s right.”

“Killing myself doesn’t make up for everything I did up until that point.”

“What did you do? You held Kronos in your body. That was the key to saving us all.”

“It hadn’t been my intention.”

“Stop, Luke.” Percy pressed his cheek into Luke’s neck. “Maybe I’m just talking to myself right now, but stop. I love you. You won’t change that.”

“And I love you,” Luke said. “And you won’t change that either.”

Percy closed his eyes. To his surprise, the sun didn’t shine through and the world grew dark.

“That’s right...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of had this picture in my mind of contact tai-chi as like, a form of pseudo-combat or something...it’s a dream, cut me some slack D:


End file.
